Jason was the last to be pulled into Diane's reality, and thus the most hesitant. The lingering sense of awareness of his modified perception sought some excuse to view Diane as anything other than a wet, willing slave. Yet Diane abetted her own illusion, sliding her hands under her thighs and holding her legs spread wide, her glistening pussy beckoning to him.

A more basic instinct tugged at him. She was someone different, a girl he had not yet fucked. First he had expanded his "conquests" to Cassie, and now Diane was waiting for him to plunge his cock into her willing cunt. How many high school geeks could claim he had sex with four girls?

Jason finally thought about Melinda as he positioned himself between Diane's legs, and felt shame for considering her only now.

Stop being so hard on yourself, he thought to little effect.

Hesitation was no longer an option. His cock ached for relief. He slid himself into her, and was surprised by the tightness of her pussy. It enveloped his cock in a slick, hot cocoon, his need a heavy blanket over his mind, smothering his thoughts.

Panting and buried inside Diane, he paused until he could concentrate. As he began to thrust, he fought the impulse to ram his cock into her and burst over the top. He could take his time and enjoy his slave. Then again, he would get the chance again. He could have her whenever he wanted, and not just as a convenience for some spell.

Jason's hips swung against Diane, moving with greater assurance and purpose. He still paced himself to delay his orgasm as long as possible. He saw patterns of energy race towards him from the southeast, the approximate direction of the nearest energy line, tracing intricate patterns in the air before entering his mind.

The patterns meant something, containing a far greater complexity than he had thought. Several distinct types of energy twined about each other. The lines were more nuanced than merely a homogeneous collection of raw power.

Jason's pleasure soared. He could not hold back much longer. His hips pumped harder, his body slapping against Diane's, her breasts bouncing back and forth. Her lips parted, her eyes half-lidded and glazed, her body trembling in anticipation of an orgasm that remained out of reach.

Jason clenched his teeth as he reached the point of no return. Energy surged in his mind as he strained at the edge, then exploded with his orgasm. He uttered a loud gasp as details in the patterns of energy leapt out at him with startling clarity, like looking at an ordinary object and suddenly seeing the individual atoms.

Each segment of energy within the lines bore a distinct resonance, like a vibrating string, revealing its origins. Some radiated from the psychic energy of living minds. Some seeped in from the lingering energies of the dead. Some burst forth from the act of many people having sex at that particular moment. Some oozed from the Earth itself: the flow of molten rock under the crust, or the breaking of waves against a distant shore, or the strike of a lightning bolt.

Jason gasped as his orgasm did not want to end. He felt his cock pulsing against the sides of Diane's cunt. A tiny whimper escaped his lips when his clarity of vision faded along with his climax. He clenched his teeth and wanted to pound his fist against the floor.

The voice of the Book echoed in his mind: see what I can do for you, Jason. See what wondrous powers I can give you.

Was that all his clarity of vision was? Just a way to tempt him? A carrot to dangle before them?

You cannot possibly give me up. You cannot give me to someone who will not appreciate my power.

Jason extricated himself from Diane. Richie surged forward and nearly knocked him over as he tried to stand. By the time Jason had recovered, Richie had impaled Diane with his cock and began fucking her hard.

The energy roiled in Jason's mind. He could tap it and expand his senses once more. Yet now the words of the Book intrigued him. Why would Victor not appreciate the Book? Victor appeared to understand exactly what power was and how to wield it effectively.

He looked at Heather. If the spell were successful, perhaps they could do it again and send the energy into her. Perhaps her vision of Victor and the Book would become more clear.

Melinda could almost tolerate it now. Little bursts of energy sparked from the link. She thought the first one was from Cassie, and the second from Heather, then Jason after that. She pushed back the lust before it could drive her insane. At least when Melissa had control of her, she could masturbate for the illusion of satisfying her pussy.

She only now noticed two of the cultists had left her side. Perhaps she was wearing them out, and they had to bring in someone else. The chanting had not ceased. The words still sank into her mind, sending hot waves of desire washing over her. She fought not to squirm, letting her body lie as much in repose as possible. Even then, she would not stop quaking.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped.

Melinda saw movement in the darkness past her feet as two cultists approached. Her heart pounded again, her eyes seeking out what she feared one of them carried. She had no idea what possessed her to think they were carrying anything dangerous, but ...

She bit her lip as they drew close. Light glinted from smooth glass. The cultist stopped and held up the ceremonial flask like an offering. The other cultists bowed their heads in silent reverence.

Melinda saw the oil inside the flask and trembled. She had no idea how, but she knew what was in it, and what it would do. The cultist drew alongside her, still holding the flask up to the light. Melinda's eyes followed it, pleading in stark and impotent silence.

The flask was opened. Melinda shook and pulled at her restraints. Fright locked her throat against words of protest as the neck of the flask was lowered to one of her nipples. Somewhere came the thought that she could not possibly know of this oil unless they had planted it in her mind, its effects just another manufactured reality. Her will already weakened, the thought died seconds after it had formed.

A thin stream of oil dribbled onto Melinda's nipple. It tingled and shot tiny bolts of pleasure through her breast. As the oil soaked into her skin, the tingle became a low burn, then a raging heat. Melinda shivered and let out a long, low moan as her nipple throbbed with her heartbeat.

More oil dripped onto her other nipple. Melinda panted as both nipples stiffened, throbbed, and ached for just the tiniest scrap of attention. Even the slightest touch, the most gentle caress would send her into paroxysms of sexual ecstasy. Instead, they pulsed in torturous neglect, a breath of air from the cultist's movement drifting in a cruel tease across her hypersensitive flesh.

The flask hovered over her sex. She wrenched her hips, but several cultists leaned forward and held down her thighs. The flask lowered, and a thin stream dripped into her slit.

Melinda threw her head back and opened her mouth, but her throat again locked. Her lust was no longer a concept or emotion, but a tangible form that had taken the shape of her sex. Her pussy throbbed with her nipples, her clit swollen and tingling.

The cultists' chant rose once more. She looked at them in turn, pleading in silence for their pity and their touch. The words of submission wanted to bubble forth from her mouth, but she fought them back one more time. She was too afraid of what that touch would mean.

Her mind wanted to scream the question at them: why? Why leave her so fearful of what might happen if she gave in? Why not just make her accept them? Why torture her like this?

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

"N-no ... uhnnggg! ... oh God ... s-stop ..."

She did not understand how her need could get any worse. She was drowning in molten lust. Yet a dread crept over her, rising with each repeat of the chant.

This is fucking insane, Richie thought.

Even as the most accepting of Diane's new role and as eager as he was to fuck a girl that opened her legs for him, he understood the incongruity. He had no idea that he was the only one thus far that could take this step back and observe from outside this imposed reality.

It did not diminish his need. His cock never felt so hard, and he swore his balls were so swollen that he would be unable to stand without parting his legs. He slammed into Diane with undiminished enthusiasm, his pleasure only creeping upward.

The feelings that had come to Jason were absent in Richie's mind. He had never considered Diane as another notch on his bedpost. Without realizing it, Richie weighed each thought against his concept of his father's opinion. His conscience no longer had only his own voice.

You're still taking advantage of the situation for yourself, Richie heard in his head, though the tone was nowhere near as damning as it had been.

He could have insisted that he had no choice, that this was for someone else's benefit. Instead, he agreed, and had no regrets. If Richie's father ever did return to Haven, the man would just have to get used to it. Richie liked to fuck, and that was it.

No reply or rejoinder came. Richie had finally won the battle with himself on this point.

The only thing that could temper his enthusiasm was what he had overheard from Cassie and Heather. Some of the details were lost to his impatience in waiting for Jason to finish. All he remembered was something about their abilities being augmented for a few fleeting moments.

Richie refused to believe that channeling the last thoughts of the dead was something he would want to associate with a mind-blowing orgasm.

Richie fucked Diane not so much with lust as with grim determination. The muscles in his rear and the base of his cock ached. He was not going to hold himself back. His need to cum was far more desperate than anyone else's had been.

Richie was not aware of his connection to the energy line until he had nearly peaked. It was little more than a presence in his mind, diffuse and undirected, a thick, glowing fog that suffused his mind with brightening light.

As his cock strained inside Diane's cunt, shapes took form inside the fog. Myriad faces loomed and retreated, none of them familiar to him. Backdrops formed around them, and those he recognized as places he had been.

His cock strained one last time and released, throbbing hard, stars dancing at the edges of his vision. Suddenly he became aware of a single point in the past matched with each face. He knew which of the faces belonged to people that were still alive and which ones were of the dead. Events whirled around him like a vortex, and he knew he could pluck any one of them at will and examine it at his leisure.

Richie breathed hard as his climax abated, and with it his visions retreated into the fog, until the fog itself had dissipated. He had no idea whether to feel angry or relieved.

"Richie? Richie, get back!" came Cassie's alarmed voice through the haze.

Richie was still buried inside Diane when a hand gripped his shoulder. He made a weak attempt to shake it off, but it only gripped harder.

"Sorry, Richie, yer done and ya gotta get lost," said Ned. "Melinda's gonna lose it if ya don't."

Richie now had a dim awareness of what the others had seen over the link. His mind still reeled, and he let Ned pull him from Diane.

Yeah, this is insane, Richie thought once more.

Melinda thrashed, the ropes stretching and biting into her skin. The bed creaked, her body writhing in unrelenting sexual torment. Her cries had lost coherence, and even her whimpers had faded. She made only soft grunting noises as her mind reeled. Her hips rose, her pussy dripping on the sheets.

Beside her bed, the cultists watched.

"Idiot," said Charles, standing in the darkness near the foot of the bed.

"It is necessary," intoned the figure sharing the dark with him, voice sepulchral from the depths of his hood.

"It wasn't until you used the Oil on her, you dolt!" Charles hissed through clenched teeth.

"She is resisting us, and the Glorious One told us--"

"I know perfectly well what he told you! But you know his feelings on this as well!"

The cultist paused. "A mistake."

"And only now you figure it out!"

"This is the only way to correct it."

"No, it's not." Charles pointed at Melinda. "You all have her convinced how the stuff works. Convince her otherwise."

A pause. "I do not understand."

"Change her perception of the Oil. Or make her perceive it has worn off."

"But ... it does not wear off, not until the one affected has been granted sexual release."

"I know that's what you make her believe, so just--"

"But that is how it works," said the cultist. "I do not understand what you ask."

Charles buried his face in his hands. "My God ... you've all ... it's been so long that now you really think ... dammit ... dammit ... I told him this could happen, that you'd all start believing this pseudo-religious--"

"I do not understand," the cultist persisted. "We must perform the ritual on her. Then she will succumb."

"She's only fourteen! She's too young! Victor never--"

A strangled cry rose from the bed, and both heads turned. Melinda gasped and twitched as if suffocating.

"She is nearing the end," the cultist said.

"Oh dear God ... this is insane ... a-all right. Do it. But don't linger at it."

The cultist nodded. He approached the bed, drawing his hands to his robe and parting it. "Young one, receive me." He shed his robe, others nearby taking it from his shoulders as it slid off, leaving his middle-aged body nude. He climbed atop the bed, his hard cock bobbing under him, the head damp in anticipation. "Receive me, and become our slave."

He descended. There was a wet sound, then a keening wail of sexual lust unleashed.

Heather regarded Jason with a haunted look. "It's happening. They're f-fucking her, trying to make her submit."

Cassie shivered and forced her breathing to something resembling normal. Her face contorted, as if caught between displaying two intense emotions at once.

"Can't we stop him?" Heather cried.

"We're trying, Heather!" Jason said, picking up the Book. "We'll channel our energy to her to keep her from--"

"I mean stop him from fucking her!" Heather shouted. "He's at least three times her age!"

Ned tried to block them out. He was riding Diane as fast as he could. His body was sore from his earlier trysts with her. He wanted to shout at them to shut up, but he sensed the same thing that they did over the link.

His heart ached for Cassie. He could sense her distress. The intense sexual arousal that the cult had instilled in Melinda had cascaded into her, and now her own revulsion was rising in equal measure, twisting her stomach in knots.

"We can only do so much, Heather!" Jason shouted back.

"W-We've got to hurry, it's not going to be much longer," Cassie said in a shaky voice.

Ned tried to talk. The first attempt ended in a half-moan, half-croaking sound. C'mon, get a grip, Nose, it's just another fuck, right? he thought. He fought past the mounting pressure in his cock that sucked in all his attention like a black hole. "Jason, get the next part of the spell ready," he finally croaked.

Jason looked up. "That's the part that lets Diane cum."

"Yeah ... do it soon ... soon as I cum."

"But I don't know if that's too--"

"Dude, jus' fuckin' do it, 'kay? Oh man ...!"

Ned panted hard, his pleasure suddenly spiking as the energy from the line rushed into his mind. He closed his eyes and rode it like a wave, letting it match his body's sexual rhythm.

All the others had a brief boost to their powers, but Ned had no innate ability. He was just a slacker that they had rescued from Nyssa, and then he chose to hang out with them so he could do something silly like fall in love with Cassie.

It was silly. He could not see past her pedigree. She may not care herself, but it mattered to him. He once overheard another student at Haven High comment that Ned was a total bastard for getting so lucky as to land a rich girlfriend, that he must have scored at least a high-def TV or a new computer out of the deal.

He had realized for the first time why the other students were shunning The Nose. The "curse" of being in the Harbingers had not motivated them as much as raw envy. He could only imagine what the girls thought of Cassie.

"Jason, get the fuckin' spell ready," Ned rasped.

Ned did not look to see if Jason had complied. He heard turning pages and more anguished noises from Heather. His cock strained. The energy surging in from nowhere he could see like a fire in his head, roaring into a tight, intense conflagration of raw power in the center of his psyche.

He looked down at Diane. She writhed and whimpered, her hands clenching and unclenching. Her hips rose to him as he pounded into her. Guilt clutched at him. Slave or no slave, they were torturing Diane in a way similar to what the cult was doing to Melinda. Nothing about being a slave meant enduring this.

Ned hung at the edge for another excruciating second before he burst into orgasm. He buried his cock inside her just as the energy novaed in his mind. The light filled every crevice, illuminating every dark corner, extinguishing every shadow.

In that instant, everything was laid bare. Every thought he ever had, every memory, every feeling lay naked in a bright spotlight. It gathered into the center of the nova and coalesced into a single, towering strength. Suddenly his mind knew no bounds. He could solve any problem, learn any skill, discover any fact through a superhuman intuition that just knew the right answer as sure as he knew his own name.

Before he could turn that power to anything useful, it was gone.

He gasped and staggered back, his cock pulling out of Diane still dribbling cum. He became aware of Jason's shouted incantation, and then Diane's orgasmic scream. He almost did not heed his own warning. He wanted to feel that soaring confidence again. Maybe it would help him resolve his internal dilemma with Cassie.

The choice was taken from him. The energy roiled and surged into the link and through Diane. She curled up on the floor, moaning and twitching.

"S-something's wrong," came Cassie's quavering voice.

For a terrifying minute, Melinda believed she was dying.

In that stretch of time, sexual contact had become as much a need for her as breathing, and its absence was suffocating her. By the time she understood what was happening, she was unable to form a coherent thought, let alone express it. She could not surrender to them to be granted life-saving relief.

She heard a voice, and comprehended only the word "slave." She was slipping away too fast to voice anything in return. She sensed rather than saw the man above her through the encroaching grayness.

Like a choking man given air, something touched the center of her heat, and a shrill cry was unlocked from her throat. Thick, hard flesh invaded her folds and sank into her until her pussy exploded into an orgasm that rattled the bed. Fingers rubbed her nipples, and they throbbed in the same all-consuming rhythm.

Melinda wanted to beg for it to continue, but she was gasping too hard from the intensity of sweet, blissful release. Hips rocked against her, a cock stroking hard against her clit, vaulting her to heights of pleasure that would be painful if it had not been life-giving.

"Be our slave."

The words were as powerful as her orgasm and pulsed with the same mind-numbing pleasure as they writhed through her mind. She could not let the pleasure stop. If it stopped, she would die.

"Be our slave, little one."

His thrusts slowed, and her orgasm retreated in equal measure. Melinda whimpered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Again, they did not take her mind. They wanted to lock her in her own body, but she had to give them the key.

"Be our slave or the pleasure will stop."

"Nnngh!" Melinda closed her eyes. She tried to block him out of her mind and mentally pull herself out from under him. She failed at both, his cock still stroking into her, her hips rising to meet him as if craving more.

"You should not resist us."

Melinda clenched her teeth. The words wanted to come out. She wanted to pledge herself to them, to promise to do whatever they wanted. The Oil still burned, magnifying each touch into a cascade of sexual delight.

The link ... the link ... the others ... I can feel ... I might ...

No more than three words would remain in her head at any given moment. Even with the strength of the Harbingers behind her, the cult sapped her will. She struggled to seize the link and draw on it like Heather or Cassie had.

Her pussy was fucked harder. Melinda whimpered as she throbbed once more, rolling waves of pleasure drowning her mind and threatening to wash her away from the link. Finally, she grasped it, and her thoughts came into sharper focus as the Harbingers energized her for a few more seconds.

"S-stop ..." Melinda moaned. "I-I won't ... I ... uhhng ... uhhnngg!"

His cock swelled, as if becoming even more engorged, stretching and filling her cunt with hard flesh and unfathomable delight. Her orgasm became a continuum, a steady state of sexual bliss like her heartbeat or the rise and fall of her chest.

The energy from the other Harbingers faded. She clung to it as a life-line against the sexual ecstasy that raged around her like rapids. Her grip failed, and her life-line ran out from between her fingers. It whipped away from her and vanished into the depths.

Melinda never had to voice the words after all. She wrapped her legs around the cultist, urging him onward, looking up with eyes both dark with lust and bright with obedience, as a good little slave girl should. The cultist shuddered, and Melinda squealed in delight when his hot cum filled her, his huge cock throbbing tight and hard against the sides of her willing cunt.

Panting, the cultist withdrew. Throbbing pleasure filled Melinda in a low, continuous orgasm that rippled through her body and mind. A slow, contented sigh escaped her lips.

The cultist stood. "She is ours now."

Heather buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "Oh God. What happened? What went wrong?"

Cassie lay a trembling hand on Heather's shoulder. "I-I can still sense Melinda. She's still there. They just ... they ..." She bit her lip and closed her eyes. She shook her head as a tear dripped from under her eyelid.

Ned and Richie looked confused, but Jason understood. He could not connect to Melinda's mind as well as Cassie, but his feelings for Melinda had created enough of a bridge for him to understand. He turned to the others and fought to keep his voice steady. "They ... sort of trapped her in her own mind."

Heather sobbed again and trembled.

Jason bit his lip and glanced at her. His face bore a pained look when he turned back to Ned and Richie. "She's aware she's e-enslaved."

Richie stared. "What the fuck?! You mean all this shit we did was for nothing?"

Jason heard a moan behind them. "Someone go help Diane!" he shouted.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Ned said. He cast a lingering glance at Jason and headed over to Diane as she stirred.

"What did happen, Jason?" Cassie said.

Jason met her question with a sharp look, but anger was swapped for guilt a moment later. "I ... it was something that I thought might happen, but--"

Heather jerked her head up, her eyes blazing through the tears. "Why the fuck didn't you tell us?"

"I did mention it, but we had to do something!" Jason yelled. He threw the Book down with a thump that made everyone jump. "Dammit, what the fuck was I supposed to do? You think I know how every goddamn spell in this thing works?!"

"Hey, man, take it ... hey!" Richie said as Jason shook off his friend's attempt to grasp his arm. "Chill out, man, it's cool."

"It is not cool by any stretch of the imagination."

"I mean you, nerd-brain. You did what you were supposed to do, right? I mean, you did all the words like you should from the spell."

"To the damn letter, yes."

"It's all right," said Heather, sniffling. She wiped her eyes and approached Jason. "I'm sorry I took your head off. If anyone should know what went wrong, it's me. I was upset and wasn't thinking."

"Kindly bestow yer wisdom on us, then," said Ned as he helped Diane to her feet.

"First I have to ask him something. Jason, it wasn't supposed to do that, right? Where we just got that one burst and that's it?"

"No, it wasn't," Jason said. "It was supposed to be a sort of catalyst. Then once Diane came, it was supposed to open a channel through her and feed us energy continuously for awhile, though I'm not sure for how long."

Cassie took a quick, deep breath to steady herself. "Why didn't it work?"

"Because it has to be all of us," Heather said. She looked at Jason. "Right?"

Jason sighed as he picked up the Book and attempted to quell the urge to smash it against the wall. His fingers tightened around it as if he were about to follow through on his desire. He relented and cradled it in his arms, the Book opening and flipping to the spell. "The sentence structure in here is hard to understand sometimes, but it may indicate that the circle has to be complete, so to speak. Everyone that's linked has to participate."

"So that's why we fucked up?" Richie said.

Jason stared at the Book. The dark, cursive script seemed to crawl across the page. He sensed the energies of the Book, flowing among the lines of text, rising from the other pages as if taunting him.

Or daring him.

He slammed the Book shut. "That's part of it, but there's something else. I'm not sure we could have generated enough energy to protect Melinda indefinitely."

"If we coulda jus' gotten more and held it--" Ned began.

"Ned, when we sent that energy to Melinda, that was as powerful as it was going to get."

Cassie gave Jason a pleading look. "Jason, you're not saying that's the best we can do with this spell! If Melinda was with us--"

"If Melinda was here, yes, it would have been more powerful," Jason said, his voice rising. "There's still a problem. We were fighting against a bunch of cult members that were all working together. They all have the same ability as Victor, just not as strong. But working together they were about as powerful as he is. If we're forced into some sort of confrontation with Victor, and he combines his own power with theirs--"

"But what if we got closer to the lines?" Cassie said.

"Well, maybe, but--"

"No, not maybe! It would be more powerful!"

"Yeah, babe, but by how much?" Ned said.

Cassie gave him an annoyed look. "I-I don't know."

Richie kicked one of the cushions strewn about the floor, launching it into the dining room. "This is fucking nuts! What the hell are we supposed to use against this tool?"

"And how are we going to get Melinda back?" Heather demanded.

Jason waited for another wave of fury to pass. He was not angry at them or even himself; he was over that now. He had finally accepted that he did not have control over everything, nor could he be expected to gain such control by snapping his fingers. "I told you all before, Heather, I think Victor's using Melinda to send a message."

"Yeah, some fucking message," Richie grumbled. "It says he's a fucking asshole who doesn't have the balls to mess with us directly."

"Yeah, that's what I don't get, kemosabe," said Ned. "Ya say he's got all this power, so he could jus' waltz in here and fuck our minds over even if we had Melinda. But he doesn't. So mebbe we're doin' something wrong. Mebbe we ain't doin' what he thinks we could do. What the hell is he afraid of?"

Jason paused. He wanted to reply with his standard answer about Victor's obsession with secrecy. Yet he was astonished by this brazen move. Victor had allowed his cult to operate in the open instead of behind the scenes.

"It's the link," Cassie said. "It's got to be! Maybe he knows something we don't. Maybe it's more powerful than we think it is. M-maybe he intends to keep Melinda indef ... f-for awhile."

"No," Heather said. "He's not going to keep her long. I think he's going to release her tomorrow."

"'nother vision?" said Ned.

"A feeling. It's not as clear as a vision."

"This is freakin' weird. If I was him, I'd keep Melinda 'til at least Halloween."

"So what now?" Richie demanded.

Jason stared at the stylized eye on the cover of the Book. A half-formed idea flitted through his head. "Nothing. We go home. I'll try to contact you all later."

"What the fuck? You're gonna let this asshole--"

"We can't do anything else now. It's getting late, and the last thing we need is to get in trouble with any of our parents. Go home, everyone."

The others exchanged looks before turning away, their movement slow and irregular, a few glancing back at Jason as if expecting some last minute wisdom. Richie cursed and stomped over to where his clothing lay. Heather came alongside Jason. "I'll need a ride back home."

Jason nodded. When the silence that followed became too much, he looked up. Heather's eyes shimmered, as if she were holding back tears.

"Jason, I just ..." Heather hesitated, then sighed. "I know you tried everything you could. I'm sorry."

Jason shook his head, distracted by the insight he was chasing down. "I just need some time to think. And I need to see someone."

"Mrs. Radson? How do you think she might help?"

"If you're right about Melinda being released tomorrow, then on Halloween we'll need someplace to do this again, so we can try to stop him."

"Do you really think we can after what happened just now?"

Jason stared at the Book cover again. "I don't know," he said in a heavy voice.

Charles watched as the cultists untied Melinda, folding his hands behind him to stop from fidgeting. One of them took her hand and bid her to rise. She climbed off the bed, a tiny smile ghosting her lips. Charles looked into Melinda's mind and repressed a shudder. He had suspected that Victor would do this but had hoped he was wrong. It was Lydia all over again.

He drew himself straight and forced his arms to his sides as the cultists came forward, their prize trotting between them. "She is our slave now, Prophet Charles," said the cultist holding her hand.

"Yes, I can see that," Charles said in a level voice. "You are to sequester her."

"But she is ours. She will see to our pleasure."

"No. That is not what the Glorious One wished of us. She is simply to be confined."

The cultists exchanged looks.

"What part of this is difficult for you to understand?"

"The Glorious One intended to send a message to the evil demons she is in league with."

Charles stared. "Evil ... demons?"

"The ones that inhabited her body and resisted us," said the cultist. "We have driven them away, but they must be taught a further lesson. That cannot be done unless they are shown what we can do to her now, how freely we can use her like a sex toy."

"Stop!"

The cultists remained still. Melinda looked up at Charles, her face placid and expectant.

"I am following the orders of the Glorious One himself," declared Charles. "He stated she was to be sequestered! Nothing more!"

A cultist bowed his head. "I humbly beg the Prophet's pardon. The Glorious One did indeed say she was to be sequestered. He did not state that this was the only action to take with her."

Charles wanted to claim he knew Victor's intent. Usually Victor never left his orders open to interpretation. Yet had he expected the cult to work on their own for eleven months of the year with minimal guidance and not develop their own agenda? Or was he aware of their increased autonomy, and it was Charles that was out of the loop?

Charles came back to the fact that Victor had refused to commit himself to a decision over how far the cult should go. Charles could never remember Victor being so vague over such a critical detail. Had he wanted the cult to take things further than he was willing to order them to do?

"Will you consent to me calling the Glorious One and letting him know that your great task has been finished?" said Charles. He took out his cell phone as he spoke, suggesting the only correct answer.

The cultist bowed his head. "Of course, Prophet Charles."

Gina took the stairs with careful steps, her high heels forcing her toes downward and her legs straight. Even this small part of her costume exuded a sexual aura that rose to embrace her entire body. Her hips swung with each step, her pussy growing warm and wet once more. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she realized that it had been a full day since she had walked in her bare feet. She did not miss it.

Soft moans rose from the living room. She saw her mother on the sofa, trembling and squirming. Her legs were spread wide, her sex swollen and glistening. Her arms hung limp at her sides. Longing and need radiated from her face.

Victor stood over her, like a lord over his subject, watching with a dispassionate eye as Roberta shivered in the helpless throes of unsatisfied lust. His eyes rose to Gina's. "Is there a problem?"

Gina stared back at Victor for another second. "No, Master."

"Why are you lingering at the stairs?"

Gina stepped forward. "I was looking at my mother."

Victor could not sense any duplicity, nor any hidden truths. He nodded and gestured towards Roberta. "It is just as well that you should observe her. Do you know why she is so aroused, Gina?"

Gina stared. Her mother opened her legs wider, her thighs quivering and her pussy oozing. Her breasts rose and fell in shortening rhythm, nipples erect and taut.

"She's aroused because she is in my presence," said Victor. "That is what I wished of her, thus it happens."

Gina shifted her gaze to Victor, questioning.

"To properly offer your sexuality to another, you must be willing to let your own emotions do so as well. You must let them lead rather than follow. You have been very good so far in letting them follow. Now you need to let them lead."

"How do I do that, Master?"

Victor smiled. "You anticipate what will be desired of you. It is a connection you have already begun to forge. You are likely not even aware of it, but it is there. It stems from your own desire to obey."

Gina nodded. It made perfect sense to her now.

He's lied to you before.

The thought was fleeting, gone the moment she tried to grasp it. Yet it was enough to make her hesitate and fail to make the connection that Victor wanted her to make.

"Look at your mother again," Victor said.

Gina turned towards Roberta. She saw her mother writhe in desperate need, her hips rising from the sofa as if to encourage a lover. Her mother's eyes closed, a soft sigh passing Roberta's parted lips.

From Gina's confusion rose renewed desire. It spread out like a slow explosion until it enveloped her body, her own pussy oozing in growing lust.

"You're starting to get it now, Gina," said Victor. "That's coming from inside you. You're anticipating my desires."

It had to be right. She sensed it emerge from the core of her own psyche, like a seed opening and growing towards the sunlight.

It could be a lie.

Gina took a tentative step forward and stopped. "I've never done this before, Master."

"Then this will be a good time to learn. Your sexuality is not limited to boys. You must be willing to give it to all who desire it."

"My mother desires it? From me?"

"You may speak, Roberta," Victor said.

Roberta's eyes opened, shimmering and pleading. Her words sighed in breathless want from her mouth. "Lick my pussy, Gina. Be my good little girl and make your mother cum."

Gina shivered in sudden, flushed sexual heat. Roberta was no longer her mother, but someone to whom she needed to surrender her sexuality. She was a slave to Brad, now she needed to be a slave to her mother.

"Better," said Victor. "You will learn to reach this point earlier, before you contemplate the actual act. That is what is important, to grow aware of the need and condition your body to respond. Willingness, presentation, and now preparation."

Gina dropped to her knees between her mother's legs without further conscious thought. The musk of her mother's arousal was as necessary to her as the air with which it mingled. The thought permeated her mind that the desire had welled up from her own being.

Unless it is another lie.

Gina shuddered and hesitated another second before touching the insides of her mother's thighs. Roberta quaked under her hands. Gina leaned forward, lightheaded for a moment in the intoxicating scent of Roberta's arousal. Her tongue touched hot, slick flesh, only teasing and sampling at first. Her mother let out a tremulous sigh, body quivering in a silent plea for more.

The taste of her mother's pussy sparked a new hunger inside Gina, and her own sex tingled and dripped. Everything she did -- the way she now flicked her tongue at her mother's clit like a cat lapping milk, the desire to slip her finger into her mother's cunt -- was all part of her acceptance of her sexual being. She was pleased that she was doing so well.

So long as this was indeed not another lie.

The conditional no longer seemed so strange. Victor was the one that triggered the emergence of her sexual self. Everything hinged on that basic truth.

"Uhhhng ... mmmm ... my good little girl ..." Roberta moaned.

Roberta's pleasure became a soft heat in Gina's pussy, her moisture beckoning at the gates for relief that would wait until she had satisfied her mother.

"Very good, Gina," Victor said somewhere behind her. "Now give her a little more. Nice firm strokes with your tongue."

Gina obeyed. She leaned forward, pressing her tongue to her mother's folds. Her head bobbed as she drew her tongue across her mother's clit. Her lower lip touched the labia, her mother's arousal soon dribbling down her chin.

Roberta moaned. "Ohhh! ... Uhhnng! ... Mmmm! ..."

Gina shivered as smell, taste, and sound coalesced in her mind and drove the rising pleasure in her pussy. Like with Brad, she could almost orgasm just from the sheer enjoyment of pleasing another.

She was aware of Victor continuing to coach her. She could not perceive the exact words, melting into her mind without having to pass through her mundane senses. She pressed her mouth to her mother's mound and closed her lips around the clit. She sucked, then lashed at it with quick flicks of the tip of her tongue.

Roberta gasped and panted, her fingers digging into the seat cushion. The coaching had stopped. Something else was going on behind Gina.

"--did not care to take this course of action in the first place. It was unfortunate from the start, let alone what they were forced to do."

Was Victor angry? It could not be with her. Gina was doing everything expected of her. He must have been railing at someone else, perhaps over his cell phone.

"I regret nothing. Do not even imply that I should."

The memory of the conversation she had overhead in the car drifted somewhere in the sexual fog. Her mother squirmed, her moans rising to gasps and her whimpers to cries.

More words blurred past her ears. Her mother's hips rose and shoved hot and needy flesh into Gina's face. She guessed that her mother was nearly at climax. She tilted her head so she could breathe and licked as hard and fast as she could. Her own body shivered in anticipation of her mother's peak.

"--Melinda well enough to force the use of the Oil, then she cannot be left to her own devices."

The name had drawn Gina's attention again. She knew that name, but from where?

"Stop telling me her age, I am tired of hearing it. You cannot imagine what is at stake. I will eventually explain it to you, but not before Halloween, and not over the phone. I will soon seek to meet Jason Conner to present my ultimatum concerning--"

Gina's mother suddenly gasped and let out a quavering moan that became a sharp, staccato pant. Her hips jerked, her pussy shoved again against Gina's mouth. Gina had no more guidance from Victor, but she guessed at what she was supposed to do. She slowed but did not stop, her tongue massaging her mother's clit like she would stroke the underside of a man's cock.

Her mother let out several explosive gasps, her body shaking. Finally, Victor's words were directed at Gina. "Ease off now, Gina. Light and diminishing strokes."

Gina pulled back, letting only her tongue play against her mother's folds. Roberta's gasps dissolved into low, satisfied moans. She smiled down at her daughter and lay a hand against Gina's cheek. Gina slowly smiled in return.

"Stand up," said Victor.

Gina rose. She turned to face him.

"Very good. You did that well."

"Thank you, Master," said Gina, her voice husky.

"You know what's coming next, don't you?"

Gina nodded. Her breath quickened. "My mother will make me cum now, won't she?"

"And why is that?"

"Because you wish it of her. I can sense that somehow."

"That is part of what you are learning. You sense the sexual desires of others. You become the sexual desires of others."

"Yes, Master."

Victor gestured. Gina turned away and sat down on the sofa as her mother stood. She spread her legs and slid her hips forward. She trembled and moaned as her mother's hands caressed her thighs and fingers teased her folds. She let out a long sigh as her mother's tongue touched her needy flesh.

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